A Boy and His Heroes
by The Witty Cabbage
Summary: The story of a Harry Potter who read comics, and loved his superheroes. Fairly close to canon, just with a Harry who has an interesting and fun motivation to learn, and to delve into the world of magic. Featuring a slightly smarter Harry, with a unique view on how to live his life in the wizarding world. T for cursing maybe? T to be safe for later on.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is the story of a Harry Potter that was allowed to read comics. A Harry who grew up reading about and idiolising Superheroes, and one who would be truly ecstatic to find out about his magic, and motivated to learn it. It allowed me to write a Harry who was determined to learn, without just turning him into a male Hermione. This won't really be dark, or angsty, and will have no massive elements of non-canon added to it. I have no idea about pairings, Harry is still 11, we'll find out later on. Until then - enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter. I do however own at least one shoe, possibly even two. Who knows?**

Harry James Potter was not a sociable boy. Well, to say that would be a little misleading. Harry Potter would happily spend his days talking and playing with his friends but, well - he didn't have any. It wasn't _Harry's_ fault though, rather, it was all the fault of his cousin Dudley. The fat oaf, as Harry always quietly thought of him, had bullied away any other children who'd ever shown interest in being his friend. It had been like that since he'd started school, at the age of 4. So to everyone in the neighbourhood, Harry was a pariah - he'd been alone for so long that that people just didn't approach him anymore, without Dudley having to do anything anymore. But Harry didn't mind - he had his comics. When he was 5 the Dursleys had reluctantly allowed him to come into the Newsagents with them, at which point he'd toddled straight over to the magazine rack and picked up a comic. This went quite unnoticed by his Aunt and Uncle, who were dealing with a screeching Dudley, enraged over not getting one of each and every chocolate bar the shop had.

Harry had become quickly immersed in the world of 'Spiderman' for the full 20 minutes it took to calm Dudley down, with promises of more chocolate tomorrow. When they attempted to usher Harry out of the shop, they yanked the comic out of his hands, tearing the front page. After that they had to buy it anyway, and Dudley wasn't interested in the Marvel comics, so they let Harry have it. The moment they got home, after discovering there was no more chores Harry instantly retreated into his cupboard with the comic, reading it over and over again, not making a single sound for the entire evening.

Amazed by the silence of the child, his Aunt and Uncle took an afternoon the following weekend to go to car boot sale. After buying as many toys for Dudley as it took to guarantee his good behaviour for the day, they bought a large pile of second hand comics, adding Dudley's old ripped ones to the pile once they got home. The sheer joy on the young boy's face as he was handed several hundred comics - ratty, old, and second hand or not - would have warmed the hearts of anyone. Anyone except the Dursleys, it seemed, who were just glad to have discovered a way to keep him quiet, and out from under their feet. As long as they gave him comics, he did all his chores quickly and efficiently, ate quietly, asked for nothing more, and created no bother whatsoever. Feeling happy about the situation, the Dursleys relaxed their stern attitudes towards him, just a little, perhaps giving him pudding on a weekend, and buying him the occasional pair of superhero action figures for his birthday - from another sale of course, they didn't care for the boy enough to buy them _new_. But Harry was ecstatic all the same, and come the day of his 11th birthday his discovery of his true heritage felt to be a dream come true.

* * *

Harry was excited for his 11th birthday. 2 years ago they'd given him _3 whole toys_ , and last year 2 toys and a slice of cake! Maybe this year would be even better! He'd been extremely good the last week, even coming out to help his Aunt in the garden in his own spare time, which had earned him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. He'd started last night's washing up, before the others had even finished, and managed to both lots laundry for the past few days! He'd carefully hidden the ball of light he'd made by accident last week, gently wafting it into the corner of his cupboard and burying it in comics. He knew he'd get nothing for his birthday if his Uncle saw evidence of his superpowers again!

Harry frowned thinking over his dilemma once more. He knew he had superpowers, but he wasn't really sure what they were. It didn't fit anything from his comics after all, and they had all sorts of superheroes and villains in them. He could move objects without touching them, like Jean Grey, sometimes made small flames like the Human Torch, and had once even _teleported_ to the roof, like Nightcrawler! He could do all sorts of things, maybe he was like Franklin Richards? But he never made things happen on purpose, and he had very little control of what happened. Letting out a deep sigh, he supposed he'd never know.

He was stirred from his musings by a strange screeching noise, followed by his Uncle's bellowing of the word "BOY!" Moving quickly, Harry scarpered out of his cupboard towards the sound of his Uncle's voice, not wanting to keep the man waiting. Vernon Dursley looked even redder in the face than normal, clearly flushed with anger and maybe embarrassment, given what looked to be feathers on his clothes. Harry raised his hands up just in time to catch the high velocity object flung at his face.

"What are you waiting for, open it so we can see what it says!" Grumbled his impatient Uncle. Realising it was an envelope Harry felt another surge of excitement. A letter, for him? And addressed to him living under the stairs? Who on earth knew about that? What could it be? Maybe a birthday card? But only the Dursleys would ever get him a card, and they didn't know what it was, and why was Uncle Vernon covered in feathers and -

"Hurry up!" His Uncles voice broke him from his rapid fire thoughts, and he hurriedly tore the envelope open, before pulling out a strange piece of paper. It felt weirdly thick and rough to be normal paper, like the parchment he got to write in at the museum he'd been to with the school once. Before he could even read the first sentence, his Uncle pulled it out of his hands, and stared at it for a moment, his face cycling through a number of expressions - shock, horror, anger, then a strange smug calmness. He began to read out loud.

"HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  
Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress "

Aunt Petunia covered her mouth in shock, whilst Vernon tossed the letter back to Harry who reread it, feeling a happiness building up inside him. Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry? That was what he was?

"I'm a wizard?" He yelled out in elation, totally forgetting himself. His Aunt gasped at his last word, shooting a terrified glance at her husband as to what he would do upon hearing the word. Her surprises of the day weren't over yet, as Vernon simply smiled, and nodded to the boy. "Yes, Harry, yes you are. And this year you'll be going away to a special school for other... wizards," he said, seeming to have to force the word, "where you'll be taught all sorts of," he twisted up his face as if in a horrific combination of pain and constipation before uttering the word "magic. We'll have someone take you shopping, then we'll drop you off at the train station, picking you up at the end of the year." His face lit up at the end, with the idea of no longer having the boy under his roof. He wasn't much trouble ever since he got his comics and toys, but it'd still be far better to not have one of 'them' living in his house, and eating his food. At some far away school where he'd be shown how to stop his accidental weirdness? That was far, far, better.

* * *

The next week was wonderful. Old Mrs Figg from next door showed them how to attach a letter to owl, showing a strange aptitude for it for someone who didn't own an owl and used the postal service, and they sent a reply asking for someone to take Harry shopping. On the 31st, Harry's 11th birthday, an immense giant of a man called Hagrid arrived to take him shopping. Harry had spent the entire journey badgering the man about anything and everything he could think to ask.

"Why are you so tall? Do you have super strength? Can you lift a CAR?" The patient man happily answered all of the young boy's questions with a great big smile on his face, at seeing Harry's enthusiasm.

"Well, you shouldn' tell anyone this, but I've giants blood! Makes me a fair bi' bigger than other people, and aye, I'm stronger' then 'em too. You know Harry? I've never tried. No' many people have cars in the wizardin' world, less so'd let me near one." He said that last part with a hearty chuckle that made Harry laugh too. He liked this big man, giants blood and all.

He was disappointed to find out that Hagrid knew nothing about superheroes, being very confused when he asked if Hogwarts was like Xavier's school for the gifted, but then again most adults didn't read comics. That was ok, Harry could always lend him his!

He learned all about the subjects, the teachers, Quidditch, Hogwarts grounds, and was just getting over his shock that dragons were real, when Hagrid chipped in with "I'm surprised yeh're not wantin' to know more about yehr parents Harry."

That sent off another round of questions, shocking Hagrid. The poor boy never even knew his parents were wizards too! It looked like it was up to him to do a lot of explaining.

* * *

Harry had learned all about his parents, and about the dark wizard Voldemort. How mother and father were a part of an elite team of heroes battling a great evil (The Order of the Phoenix was possibly the best team name he'd heard), and how they'd sacrificed their lives for the cause, and how it was him, _him_ who'd been responsible for Voldemort's final defeat, at only 1 year old. And because of that he was famous? People all across Britain, and often the rest of the world, would know of him, and recognise him by his scar. There was even a series of books about him, turning him into an action hero! He retained a drawn out sense of shock for the rest of shopping trip, following Hagrid round the shops in a trance like state, only coming out of his daze temporarily to be shocked once more by the volume of gold he owned ("I could be Batman! Or Ironman! Or.. Or Doctor Doom! I'm rich!") until they reached the wand shop.

"Yeh can just go in there yerself Harry, Ollivanders a good bloke, he'll get yer sorted out with a good wand."

That brought Harry's excitement to a fever pitch. He'd bought spell books, potion ingredients, a cauldron even, but none of it matched this. A wand. He was a wizard, and he was going to buy a _wand_. After reassuring that Harry would be ok on his own, Hagrid wandered off to buy more of Harry's school supplies for him.

It was less exciting than Harry had previously imagined, flicking random wands, only for them to be yanked out his hand by the old man. Often he didn't even manage to hold a wand before it was taken from him just like the rest. He was beginning to despair, before Ollivander, in a seeming flash of brilliance, managed to pull out one more box.

"This one, now this one is something special. 11" long, made of holly, and with a phoenix feather core, no less. Nice and supple too. Try this one, my boy."

At a wave of the wand a grand crescendo of sparks, red and gold, plumed from the end, the display showering the dark shop in brilliant light. The pair, shop owner, and customer, were ecstatic at the find, and Ollivander was just about ready to close the deal when Harry frowned. He remembered all the times Hal Jordan had lost his ring, or Tony Stark ended up without a suit.

"What if I lose it?" He inquired of the old man.

"Well, we can sell you a wand holster for it, make you less likely to lose possession of it," he replied, a sinking feeling building in his chest.

"Yes, I'll get one of those. Two actually. Oh, and another wand too! A spare!" Harry looked up at Ollivander, a happy smile emblazoned across his face. The wand maker groaned inwardly, but forced a smile. Of course it was his most difficult customer who thought to buy _two_ wands.

"Very well Mr. Potter - let's find you another wand!" he replied, forced optimism and enthusiasm dripping from every pore

* * *

It was a very satisfied Harry who left the shop. He'd managed to find a second wand much quicker now that they knew what to look for. It wasn't quite as a good a fit for him said Ollivander, but it would certainly do the job, especially as a spare. 12'', Rowan wood, Unicorn hair, slightly springy. Apparently excellent for protective charms and healing, whilst his main wand was supposed to be good for duelling and opposing the dark arts. Harry liked the sound of that. A pair of heroes wands, and he was going to prove himself to be the greatest hero the wizarding world had ever seen! He'd make his parents proud of him.

 **There we are! I'd appreciate feedback on the first chapter, reviews are fuel for the fanfiction fire! (God that sounded cringey as hell, I am never saying that again)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Et voila, chapter 2. Thank you so much to those who reviewed, and I hope you enjoy! I do not own Harry Potter, I do however own 1 wooden stool. Its a nice stool, I use it as a bed side table.**

Buying robes was an interesting experience for Harry. There seemed to be a lot of points and reasons for and against the outfit, but that wasn't the only unusual part of the exchange. He'd met a very arrogant, and not particularly pleasant, blonde boy in the shop. The boy had introduced himself as Draco Malfoy, putting great emphasis on his second name, to Harry's confusion. Were the Malfoys famous? He apologised politely for never having heard of them, but Draco brushed it, and Harry, off entirely, muttering something about mud. Harry was extremely bewildered, and hoped that the rude boy wouldn't be in any of his classes. He was rather annoying.

As for the robes themselves, Harry was conflicted. On the one hand, he felt excited to be wearing them, they marked him as an official part of this amazing world, and he felt he truly should be here. The robes were a mark of belonging and power, like a superheroes costume. On the other hand, they looked and felt like wearing a shapeless cloth bag, and their mobility range was less than that of a quadriplegic toad under the influence of Vernon's home brewed beers. He figured he'd have to wear them for school, but maybe he could do something to them to make them a little more practical? He grinned - he was a wizard after all. Magic could surely solve this.

* * *

The Dursleys had confiscated his wand, but let him keep his spell books to study before he went - he was allowed to exceed now that he was going to a different school from Dudley. His aunt and uncle didn't want him showing them up at Hogwarts with poor grades, even if it was a school for "Freaks and weirdoes." It was matter of principle for them. They hadn't known about his second wand, but Harry had handed it to them anyway, as a mark of good faith. He couldn't use out of school anyway, and his willingness to give it up and earned him cake!

He was spending his time fervently reading his spell books, and comparing their contents to list he made. He'd gone through his comic book listing down all sorts of things he wanted to do with magic, and was seeing how much he'd learn in his first year at Hogwarts. He didn't imagine they'd teach much fancy things to 11 year olds, but he was hoping. He'd ticked off telekinesis because of the hover charm, which caused him to pause. Did it really count as telekinesis if it needed a wand? He resolved to look into that once he was finished here. Telekinesis was really more of a variety of spells - unlocking, levitating, severing, etc. Pyrokinesis was ticked off with the charm to create fire, and the wand lighting charm - to an extent anyway.

It seemed like first years didn't get taught all that much interesting magic, but that was ok. Harry had bought a second year book too, just the charms one. He'd been told he could order more if he was able to use the charms book, and he'd thought he'd better check how difficult this one would be first. Second year didn't have much to interest him either. Cleaning and tickling charms? The disarming and freezing charms seemed cool to him, but just how far ahead would he have to go to find the interesting magic? He sighed. Perhaps he was simply looking in the wrong places.

He flicked open his book on transfiguration. The spells here honestly seemed very useless, but he supposed that was just to teach them how the basics worked. Perhaps he could find more interesting spells in other books? The ability to turns one's enemy into a frog was a classic, and he'd enjoy learning that if it existed. Transfiguration had so many possibilities! Turn the floor to quicksand, the air to smog, a chair into a hyena - his eyes widened at an idea. Turn your opponents wand into a regular stick! He noticed that first years were taught the switching spell. Surely that could instantly end a duel, swap your opponents wand for a banana and they'd be beaten rather thoroughly.

His night went on like that, marking down things to learn to gain powers, as well as just general spells. Hagrid had told him he'd have a long train ride to Hogwarts - if he knew the theory to all these spells, then he could practise them then. He spent hours that evening, performing the motions and incantations with a pencil, before falling asleep halfway through studying his potions text. His dreams were filled with a giant bat flying after him, shrieking about Monkshood and Wolfbane. His sleep was not restful at all. He dearly hoped wizards didn't get prophetic dreams.

* * *

The rest of his summer went very much like that, with Harry quickly learning all about his first year of magic. It was quite the blur of reading, chores, comics, and the quietest his family had ever been to him - and that was saying something. Dudley never went anywhere near him, ever since he'd been to buy his wand. The fact that Harry didn't even have it on him didn't seem to matter, the large boy was terrified.

On the morning of the first day of term the Dursleys drove him to Kings cross station, where he quickly entered the platform alone, having read about it in Hogwarts: A History as the entrance to the secret platform 9 3/4. He boarded the train quietly, but with great haste, eager to find a carriage and begin casting magic. Being one of the first onto the train, he found an empty one almost immediately. He pulled out the small box of matches he'd taken from the Dursley's kitchen, barely containing his excitement. Transfiguration could turn you into an animal! It wasn't taught in his spell books, but it was mentioned. If he could show his teacher he was good enough, maybe she'd show him how. He resolved to spend the first hour on the train trying to turn the matchstick into a needle, and then turn it back with the magic cancelling charm - even if that was a second year spell.

Unfortunately , his plans were interrupted half an hour in. A friendly looking redhead boy had come looking for a carriage, despondently stating that his brothers wouldn't let him sit with them, and requesting to join Harry here.

"Wait a second, blimey, are you... Are you Harry Potter?" He looked awed to be talking to him, which Harry sort of liked. It was nice to be recognised, he thought

"Yes, I am. Would you like to sit down?" He thought polite and modest was the best way to go - being famous was unknown territory for him.

The boy, who introduced himself as Ron, managed to get over Harry's fame rather quickly, and became interested in what magic Harry was doing. Harry showed him the charm to turn a match into a needle, and they worked on that for a bit, until the pair could do it. It turned out Ron had a fair gift for magic, once he knuckled down and worked. He explained that he'd grown up around magic being cast constantly around his house, and was used to the feeling of it. It just came naturally to him to use it, if he concentrated hard enough.

They moved onto defensive spells, which seemed to interest Ron the most, learning how to fire different colours of sparks from their wands, the smoke screen spell, and the knock back jink. Harry's attempt to conjure red sparks was so powerful that the entire compartment blazed like a firework had just been shot off, and Ron's smoke screen was wild enough that they had to open all the windows and the compartment door. This was coincidentally timed with the appearance of a frizzy brown haired girl looking for a toad. She eyed the smoke still emitting from their compartment, as well as the burnt seats with careful appraisal.

"Spell attempt go wrong?" She said with sympathy. Harry grinned up at her

"Spells attempts went a little too right actually. Ron's a dab hand with the smoke screen charm, and I think I might have overpowered my sparks a little. Possibly a good idea to save trying _incendio_ until later, eh?"

The girl grinned, introduced herself as Hermione Granger, started to ask about what other magic they were doing, and whether she could join them, all in one breath, but cut herself off half way through her question, going back to embarrassedly mumbling about a toad.

Ron quickly invited her to join them, and Harry offered to help her find the toad. The trio, alongside a shy boy called Neville, who lost the toad, went off to see a prefect about a toad. Ron found his brother Percy, who kindly demonstrated the summoning charm to them, causing Neville's toad to come zooming to his outstretched hand. He informed them that if they needed anything else, he was there to help, and cast a small homing charm on Neville and his toad, allowing him to be able to sense its general direction from him. The 4 wandered back to their apartment, cheerful and chatty, and Ron and Harry possessing a desire to show off their magic to their new friends. The carriage took a fair beating that journey, with excited 11 year olds blasting all manner of spells with grand enthusiasm. Harry felt that his new friendship was the start of something truly grand.

* * *

Harry hadn't known what to expect for the sorting - he and Hermione had both read Hogwarts: A History, but the book deliberately left out the details, stating only that a ceremony would take place on their first day there, sorting them into one of the 4 houses. Harry and Ron were both sure they were destined for Gryffindor, house of heroes, but Neville and Hermione were less sure about themselves. The four were enjoying a discussion on how they'd beat a mountain troll, if it were the challenge as Ron's twin brothers had claimed. None of them actually believed they'd fight one ever, let alone on their first day, but it was a fun discussion.

"So, I fire my most powerful firework sparks its eyes to distract it, Hermione and Neville start levitating its feet, and Ron hits it with a series of knock back jinxes in the back, so the combination makes it fall over."

The others nodded, amused that they'd apparently managed worked out a way to take down a mountain troll using first year spells learned on a train. Not exactly like the information would ever be useful to them, but it did make them feel that little bit smarter.

Harry was very surprised a signing hat was to do the sorting, but whatever, he supposed - it was a magic school after all. He did feel a little disappointed that nothing more interesting happened -he'd put all that effort into working out how to fight a troll after all. Maybe the school had one they could practise on?

He watched intently as his friends were sorted one by one. First went Hermione, sorted into Gryffindor. He cheered and clapped for her, hoping that he would be joining her soon. But before him went Neville, also joining Gryffindor. Harry idly noticed as Draco Malfoy reached Slytherin, the house of super villains, before it was his turn.

"My my, someone does want to be hero now, don't they. You have the attributes for Slytherin, possibly Ravenclaw too..." Harry was about to interject that he'd much rather be a Gryffindor with his friends, thank you very much, but the hat reached a conclusion first.

"But with a burning desire for heroism like yours, there only choice is GRYFFINDOR!" Yelling out the last word as it send him to the table with the people he'd be spending the next 7 years of his life with. The Gryffindor table burst into raucous applause, Ron's brothers even going as so far to bounce up and down yelling "WE GOT POTTER, WE GOT POTTER!" Even Percy, the friendly but reserved prefect, joined in the applause with enthusiasm. Harry would never get used to this fame of this. Still it felt nice to be wanted. He sat down next to Hermione and Neville, where Ron joined them soon after, his round of applause led by his brothers and friends. He sat down next to them, blushing furiously at all the attention. Evidently, he was as unused to this kind of thing as Harry was.

* * *

"Mind reading?"

"Legilimency and Occlumency, not an expert on either of those, ask a teacher,"  
Harry happily scribbled that down on his notepad, alongside animagi and metamorphagi for shape shifting.

"Flying?"  
"Any wizard can fly on a broom, or a flying carpet, but those are banned of course. Anything can be enchanted to be flown on - our dad's working on a flying car. No one can fly unmanned, except the last dark lord they say."

Percy was the greatest source of knowledge Harry had ever had access to! He was a walking encyclopaedia of magic, and Harry was taking full advantage.

"Can people do wandless magic?"

"Some do, but I gather it's very difficult. The Headmaster can do it, but he's the greatest and most powerful wizard in Britain."

Drat. Oh well, he'd give it a go anyway - magic really didn't seem that hard. A bit of reading, and some concentration, and his first year spells were coming to him very easily. Maybe wandless magic was exaggerated in difficulty?

"Teleporting?"  
"Apparating," corrected Percy. "All wizards and witches learn to do it at 16, its even taught at Hogwarts"

"Can it take you anywhere in the world?"

"Anywhere you've been before and isn't warded. Places like Hogwarts and the ministry are warded against apparating within them, for safety reasons of course."

"So it's really easy to stop someone from apparating?"

"I wouldn't call it easy, apparition wards are hard to put up, but when they're up the only thing that can apparate within is a house elf - their magic is very different from ours."

This sparked off a round of questions from Harry and Hermione about what elves were. Percy didn't get a single break that entire dinner, with their incessant questions. Oh well, he thought. At least this year's Gryffindor were studious. Perhaps Ron would be too? He scoffed. If pigs could fly. He then remembered the existence of the hovering charm, and considered that perhaps there was hope for his youngest brother yet.

* * *

After Hermione was quite assured that house elves were happy to work for free at Hogwarts, and promises from Fred and George to introduce her to them, the first years happily headed to common room, to relax for a few hours before bed. They received their class schedules, revealing that their first lesson the following day would be potions. Harry was initially excited by the idea, finding it to be an interesting topic from his reading, but the twins soon informed him otherwise.

"Snape is a skinny stick of grease and detentions. Not a single non Slytherin has enjoyed potions since he started here - Gryffindors especially get it the worst. Mark my words Harry, you'll hate it."

That sentence was actually said in a confusing split between the two, which left Harry unsure as to whether or not they used a spell to talk like that without messing up. Or maybe wizard twins had some sort of psychic link? With a yawn, he resolved to find out the following day. It had been a long first day, and he was worn out; despite that majority of the day having been spent sitting in a car or train. Funny how just those things could tire you out so spectacularly. With that last thought he curled up in his new four poster bed, and curled up to sleep. He was out before he could hear any of Ron' s incredibly snoring.

 **Lots of little time skips here, because not that much will be different in the first year of Hogwarts, so I'm trying to get to the fun stuff. Hope this didn't feel rushed, I do get a bit impatient with writing, and was also in a bit of a hurry today. Review! Reviews are the cement for the fanfiction structure! (Nope that was just as bad. Fuck.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Chapter 3, et voila. I do not have a regular update schedule planned, but shhhhhhhhh. Who needs an orderly life, am I right? As per usual, I do not own Harry Potter. I do, however, own multiple flapjacks. Or at least I will for the next few minutes, before I ingest them. Still counts though.**

Harry had a rather bad feeling when walking into potions, and not just because of what Fred and George had said. He'd spotted Snape sitting next to the defence professor, and a single glance in their direction had been enough to cause his scar to flare up in pain. Not only that, but he could swear he'd seen Professor Snape before. There was also something bat like about him - if Harry hadn't seen him next to the garlic stinking DADA teacher, he'd have thought him a vampire!

His fears turned out to be realised when the class began. As soon as Snape read out his name, he looked up with a sneer so bad that Harry could easily imagine a rather large dead fish being wafted under the teacher's nose. That would certainly result in such an expression. Unfortunately that image was so funny to Harry, that it was an incredibly difficult battle to keep a straight face. His humour was cut short by Snape's next statement.

"We are all truly... blessed to have a celebrity such as you in this class _potter_... Perhaps you could start me off by telling me, what will I get if I add Powdered Root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

The Gryffindors stared at the Potions master, whilst the Slytherins sniggered. They knew as well as Snape did that such knowledge was not expected of a first year, let alone on his first ever lesson! However, fighting trolls wasn't expected either, and Harry reckoned he could take a fair stab at that.

"A sleeping potion sir? A powerful one... I think." His statement caused Snape's expression to waver a little, before he ploughed ahead.

"Any competent wizard could tell me that would give me a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death... _Potter._ Let's try this again. Where might I find a bezoar?"

Harry hadn't seen anything about bezoars in his magical studies! But wait... Perhaps not in his magical studies, but he remembered a trip to a farm he'd made once with his Aunt and Uncle. Something about a Giraffe?

"In the stomach of a, err..." He stammered as he searched desperately for the fancy word he'd been taught. "A ruminant!"

Snape's lip curled in confusion. "And what, _Potter_ , is a Ruminant? A creature so rare it is known only to you?"

Harry remembered what he'd been told now, and he stood up to answer the question, recalling the statement exactly. " _Ruminants_ are mammals that are able to acquire nutrients from plant-based food by fermenting it in a specialized stomach prior to digestion. This can lead to the formation of a bezoar. Ruminants include Giraffes, Goats, and Cattle. "

Professor Snape stared a little longer, before swishing his cloak, and writing the word _Ruminant_ down on the blackboard. He turned and glared at the shocked students announcing angrily

"What are you waiting for? Copy down the muggle term. If our special _celebrity_ knows it, I'm sure you can all use it to get _utterly perfect_ marks on your exams. Wouldn't you think Mr. Potter?"

His voice was still full of scorn, but seemed a little more thoughtful, and less malice was put into his name this time - he was even upgraded to 'Mr. Potter', which seemed quite the achievement from what he'd heard of Snape. After he'd copied the term down with the rest of the class, not that he really needed to, Snape turned to him one last time.

"Now Mr. Potter, if you can answer my last question, I will grant 5 points to Gryffindor!" There was an intake of breath from the class, it was unheard of for Snape to go this long without taking points from Gryffindor, let alone giving them! Harry felt all eyes on him, the entire class urging him, daring him even, to change a decade of tradition from the teacher.

"What, pray tell, is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

Harry knew this one! For some reason he couldn't quite remember, he'd made sure that he knew this one. His mind searched for the answer, but he just couldn't recall it. All that was coming to mind was giants bats, and he was sure he was way off topic. He hung his head in shame.

"I'm afraid that I don't know sir." Perhaps Snape would let him off? He'd done well enough already, surely.

"I suppose your 'knowledge was just a fluke then, _Potter_. The answer is, obviously -"

"ACONITE!" Harry excitedly yelled out. He had it! He knew the answer! "There is no difference! They're the same substance, also known as Aconite. " He looked up at the Professor, eagerly and expectantly, with the rest of the Gryffindors (and even some Slytherins) doing the same. Snape let out a sigh.

"That is correct Mr. Potter. Well... Done. 5 points to Gryffindor." The Gryffindors would have burst into cheers, if they had not been sure it would have lost them far more points than Harry had gained already. Perhaps it was the sign of a new age? Or of old Snape growing a heart? Or maybe it was just the work of the wizarding worlds hero once more?

"4 points from Gryffindor for your interruption though Mr. Potter. Don't do it again." Ah well, the class mused. One was still a new record from Snape.

* * *

Harry was glad he'd been practising his magic with Ron, Hermione, and Neville, separate from their lessons. They'd agreed to keep it up as a study group, Ron surprising himself in doing so. He wasn't a big fan of reading, but enjoyed the feeling of successfully mastering a spell, so he put the effort in too - with some minor pushing from the others. Why was he so glad? Well, apart from the usual reasons - to help them in classes, for the thrill of casting magic, to enjoy socialising, - it was because he was certain they'd fail defence without it. Professor Quirrel was a nice enough man, but he seemed terrified of his own subject, stuttering like crazy anytime he tried to teach it. They covered very little of their course material per lesson, and what they did go over was barely touched upon. Not only that, but Harry and Hermione had already mastered a spell to release pleasant smelling fumes from their wands, in order to combat the garlic stench of the room.

Transfiguration was a funny experience. They were turning a matchstick into a needle, the spell the 4 friends had already mastered on the train. When Ron, Hermione, and Harry managed it in one go, and Neville in two, the transfiguration professor had nearly had a heart attack. She'd quietly given 5 points to Gryffindor each, before walking away looking dazed, muttering something about "Potter and his marauders are back again. God help us all." The statement confused Harry, but he just shrugged it off. He was in a world filled with magic, friends, and adventure. There were far better things to do than think about teachers! Transfiguration was fun, and Harry liked it all the more when McGonagall set them new tasks to do as soon as they'd completed the last, not holding them behind. Harry and his friends eagerly started on the switching spell.

The main take away from that lesson, however, was not the spells they were taught. It was the teachers demonstration at the beginning of the class - she could turn into a cat! After the lesson Harry had ran back alone to ask her about the Animagus transformation. He'd heard of it before from Percy, but here was first person he knew could do it. Maybe she could teach him more about it!

"Becoming an Animagus is the hardest feat of transfiguration. There are a very small number of registered Animagi, and an unknown number of unregistered. Your father was one of them."

Harry was shocked and excited. He listened eagerly as he was told about his father's status as a transfiguration master, and an Animagus in his fifth year, from starting in his third. After requesting to be taught, McGonagall had informed him that if he kept up his marks this year, she'd give him a book to start him off, in his second year. It was a long way away, but Harry understood. It was a dangerous path she'd told him, with many injuring themselves awfully in trying to learn. He'd follow the pace his teacher set him, and maybe even beat his father's record!

Charms with the excitable Flitwick was wonderful. They were supposed to just be learning the wand motion and incantation for the hovering charm, but Hermione informed that little teacher that she'd learned it the night before. He happily gave her 10 points to Gryffindor, and allowed the rest of the class to try it. After a few wavering attempts Harry managed it, Ron soon behind him after Hermione corrected his pronunciation. One of their group had slightly worse luck. Neville's feather set on fire and whizzed at the charms professor, who just managed to vanish it before it slammed into his head. Harry was sure Neville had pronounced the spell right, and made the correct movements. So why had his spell gone wrong?

The solution was found easily, when Harry recalled the words of a certain old shopkeeper. "The wand chooses the Wizard Mr. Potter. If your wand has not chosen you, it will not serve you. The simplest of spells could fail spectacularly, or simply not happen at all."

Harry leant Neville his spare wand to try the spell again. His friend looked doubtful, but made another attempt, under the wary gaze of Professor Flitwick, and the excited stares of his class members. They'd already heard of Harry earning points from Snape - maybe his next trick would be to teach this boy magic! Neville held up his wand, took a deep breath and cast the spell. The feather remained where it lay. The class let out a sigh of disappointment, and were about to turn back to what they were doing, before Neville smiled and pointed at the teacher.

The miniature Professor was clapping his hands enthusiastically at Neville's display of magic, as he floated through the air, lifted by the boy's spell. There was a shocked silence from the class, before they burst into cheers, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie and pride for Neville - despite most of them not actually knowing him. After finding out that Neville was using his father's old wand, Harry allowed him to use his second, until Neville could arrange for a new wand to be purchased for him. Their head of house, Professor McGonagall, promised to take him to Ollivander's that weekend, and to have a word with his grandmother about his father's old wand. Neville looked a bit worried at the idea of going against his grandmother, her being the imposing woman that she was, but after sparing a glance to the stern faced and tight lipped transfiguration professor, he figured she might just be a match.

* * *

Harry's first flying lesson came on September 12, and he'd been so busy with classes and studying magic himself, that he'd entirely forgotten to be excited about it! After all, why wouldn't he be excited? It was flying! Superman flew, Wonder Woman flew, Iron man flew, Thor flew, Spiderman - well Spiderman didn't fly, but flying was definitely better than web slinging, where was he going with this? Oh yes, all the best heroes flew. And until Harry learned unaided flight (He'd work out somehow) then the only flight he could manage would be on a broom. And this was where he'd learn to do it - his flying lessons. He couldn't wait to get on his broom, but there was a long introduction and safety talk first. At least he wouldn't embarrass himself and fall painfully.

"Now, hold out your hand in front of yourself and say 'Up!'" Intoned Madam Hooch, the flying instructor.

One at a time, so she could watch them better, the students summoned their brooms to their hands. Harry managed his first time, same as Ron, and Hermione got it after a few attempts. Poor Neville's broom barely twitched after his 5th, and Harry could see Malfoy laughing at his friend, and got very annoyed with the blonde boy. What had Neville done to him? He waited patiently for Malfoy's turn, his entire focus on Malfoy's broom.

When he summoned it to his hand, Harry concentrated intently, thinking the same word as Malfoy at the same time. 'UP!' Malfoy's smug face was turned to look of horror and pain, as his nose shattered under the high velocity broom handle shooting into his face. He'd intended to fire it quickly and easily catch it to show off, but it had gone far faster than he'd expected. He looked to see the Potter boy with a slight smile on his face, and blurted out

"POTTER! Potter did it to me! He jinxed my broom! We saw him do it! Didn't we!" Crabbe and Goyle, his lackeys, looked confused, but then nodded stupidly and pointed at Harry. Madame Hooch whirled on him, looking furious.

"Mr. Potter, why did you jinx his broom?"

Harry continued looking perfectly innocent, replying with the technically true response "I didn't jinx his broom at all Madam Hooch," he held out his wand for the teacher to see, "Cast priori incantatem on it if you must, I didn't do anything." Ok that last part was a lie, but to be fair he couldn't be 100% sure he'd had a part in it. Malfoy really could just be that bad at summoning his broom.

After casting the spell on his wand, identifying that his last spell cast was the fire making charm, and giving him 5 points for casting a spell his classes hadn't covered yet, she turned on Malfoy and his minions.

"5 points for each of you for lying, and a detention for you Mr. Malfoy, for instigating it. I suppose you did that to yourself on purpose to try and get him into trouble did you? Broken nose serves you right. Come on, to the hospital wing with you." She dragged the whining teary boy with her back into the castle. The class's silence was broken by Theodore Nott, the Slytherin picking something off the ground and announcing, "Looks like somebody's lost a Rememberall? Finders keepers." Followed by an annoyingly Malfoy-like smirk. Harry was very frustrated - get rid of one Malfoy, and a second one would pop up. It was like fighting a Hydra? Were Hydras real? He'd have to find out.

Ignoring Neville's protests, Theodore began to toss the ball from hand to hand, musing out loud. "Now, do I simply smash it, or do I let him go diving for it in the lake? He could have a family reunion with his mother, the giant squid in there!" The uninspired cruel comment was met with rage from Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville himself. All of the friends had been told the fate of Neville's parents.

The Slytherin boy was still looking smug up until the point where he began hurtling through the air, propelled by the power of four separate disarming spells. One would have disarmed him, two would have knocked him down, three would have sent him flying, and four? Four shot him back the length a muggle swimming pool, causing him to land painfully down on the ground. Harry's victorious grin was cut off into an expression of shock as the arrogant boy landed on his back, and an audible 'crunch' reached the group. Theodore didn't move.

* * *

Elsewhere, at the same time, Professor Snape was deep in thought. Harry Potter was not at all like his father. From his own experience, and from the discussion he'd had with the other teachers, he'd gathered that the boy was quiet, knowledgeable, friendly, and eager to learn. He sighed. He'd seen the boy's eyes, and those eyes revealed more about him than any of the looks he'd inherited from his Father. He was his mother's son through and through, and Snape couldn't hate him. Couldn't hate the reincarnation of Lily Potter that had walked into the classroom. God help him, he actually liked the boy! He came to his decision. He'd stick to his promise to protect him, and he'd mean it entirely. This was the last remnant of the woman he loved, and he wouldn't let any harm come to him. He would treat the boy as he'd treat one of his own house. As long as he didn't take after his father, and start assaulting the Slytherins of course.

 **Oops a daisy. Silly Harry. Anyway, I tried making each littler 'section' of the story a bit longer, and having few of them. Mostly because these scenes allowed me to play them out very differently from canon and were more enjoyable to write. Also, this chapter does not mean Super!Harry who flawlessly does wandless magic! What he did was no different from accidental magic - wandless, and emotionally fueled. Harry can only cast a disarming charm, because he and his friends learned to cast it. He is not a prodigy - just a hard worker. Review! Reviews are the meta part of my shitty review metaphors! Double meta joke, good going me.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry about not updating on any kind of schedule, I've been on holiday for the past few weeks, and will be going away again soon in a few days, but I'll attempt to squeeze out a few more chapters before I go. I do not own Harry Potter, but I do own a money box with a pirates face on it. Lucky me!  
**

There was silence among the 11 year olds for just a few moments, before sound and chaos broke out among them. A few of the Slytherins charged straight to their fallen friends side, one of them - a girl called Pansy - pulled out her wand and started firing poorly aimed minor hexes at Neville, and the Gryffindors were either in awe or their housemates casting, or dodging Pansy's wayward curses. Dean didn't move fast enough, and caught a flash of red light to the face, causing a horrible breakout of boils. Neville, still in a rage, turned his wand on Pansy. With a cry of "Periculum!" a firework-like burst of red sparks shot towards her, scorching her hand and causing her to drop her wand. A second casting sprayed over the girl, eliciting a pained yelp.

When Neville raised his wand again, to continue casting at Pansy, Harry's arm shot out, grabbing the wand, in an attempt at ceasing the miniature duel. Neville jerked his wand back, pushing Harry away, sending the much lighter boy stumbling. He turned to fire on Pansy again, but as he cast the spell, the wand (Harry's spare) revolted, launching itself out of Neville's hand and into the outstretched palm of Harry.

"WHAT IS GOING ON?" The roaring voice stopped the chaotic events, and the attentions of the 11 year olds snapped towards the source. Madame Hooch, with Professor McGonagall at her side, was standing a few metres away, the two adults staring in horror at the children. The head of Gryffindor went immediately into action, gesturing to Neville, Harry, and Pansy. "You 3, what is happening here? And Rolanda, please take another trip to the hospital wing, Mr. Nott appears to be in need of assistance. "

As the flying teacher moved to the side of Theo, and cast an Enervate on the unconscious boy to wake him up, the 3 called out students began to point and yell. Harry was trying to explain, albeit loudly, what had gone on, Neville was yelling abuse at Theo, and Pansy was doing the same to Neville. A chop of her hand from McGonagall silenced the group, and she instead turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, would you mind explaining to what went on here?" Her explanation was an upgrade from the screaming three, but still not ideal.

"Well you see Professor, Theo took Neville's rememberall from where he'd dropped it and started threatening to smash it, then he insulted Neville's mother, and then me and Harry and Ron and Neville all tried to disarm him, but I think it was too much and he went flying, and then Pansy tried to curse Neville, and Neville burned Pansy with sparks, and then Harry tried to stop him, but Neville pushed him over and tried to burn Pansy again, but then his wand suddenly leaped from his hand and into Harry's, and then you arrived, and -"

"Thank you Miss Granger, I think that will be all." The Professor cut in, interrupting Hermione's rapid babble. "20 points from Slytherin for Mr. Nott's actions, 10 points from each of you four for attacking him, 10 points from you, Miss Greengrass, for attacking Neville, 10 points from you, Neville, for attacking Miss Greengrass with unnecessary force, 10 points to Gryffindor for you Harry, for attempting to resolve the situation, and 5 points to each of you who cast the disarming charm successfully. That was a second year peace of magic."

There was a silence as the 11 year olds tried to work out how much trouble everyone was, by doing the mental maths involved. Hermione then looked up at the teacher and asked "So, 30 points from each house Professor?"

McGonagall nodded, seeming satisfied with those amounts. "And a detention each for Mr. Nott and Mr. Longbottom. I think that should settle it."

* * *

News of 'Harry's Duel' spread around the castle fast, under that name, which was rather inaccurate as it really should have been 'Neville's Duel', but once more Harry got all the attention. Malfoy managed to corner Harry after his return from the hospital wing, challenging him to a duel at midnight in the trophy room.

"No."

"No? Scared Potter?"

"I'll duel you right now Malfoy if you think I'm scared. We either duel at day time, somewhere we're allowed to go, or we don't duel at all. Saturday, midday, by the lake."

After much sneering and posturing, Malfoy agreed to the duel setting, choosing Goyle as his second. Harry chose Ron, Hermione not wanting any part of it, and his friendship with Neville a little strained. Neville had apologised profusely for shoving Harry out of the way, and Harry had accepted his apology, but things still weren't quite back to normal between them. Neville's new wand had arrived, his Grandmother willingly buying him one after hearing how Neville had "Courageously defended his family's honour," which was very fortunate as Harry's wand had stopped working properly for Neville. Hermione had scanned a book on wand lore, and with a description from Harry about his wand was able to theorise why.

"The wand chooses the wizard right? Harry's wand liked Neville at the start, so it worked for him. But the wand is made for protective charms and healing, and Neville was using it exclusively to hurt Pansy," Neville shrunk several inches into himself at that comment, but Hermione didn't seem to notice. "It rejected him, and returned to its true master, Harry, as Harry was trying to stop the fight - it liked that."

Harry thought it was all a bit strange, talking about the wand like it was sentient, but he could still feel the wands happiness at being back with him, and decided that Hermione might just be on to something.

* * *

Harry was musing as he waited. He and Ron were waiting by the lake for Draco, having made it there a bit too early. They'd began with idle chatter, but nervousness had plunged them into silence. Harry was currently thinking about Snape. He'd been civil to Harry, after a few brief insults based on Harry's capability to make it through his lesson without disarming any of the Slytherins of their potions ladles, but had sat him across the classroom, far from the Slytherins. He had honestly expected a lot more, but his new seating and some extra scrutiny were all that he received. Moving across the classroom had put him next to Hermione instead of Ron, making her his new potions partner. That worked out well, as the two were an excellent team at making the potion, both well read on the theory of each brew. It did put Neville and Ron together, which was a constant disaster, but it also kept Snape focused on those two, instead of on Harry. All in all, it had worked out very well for him.

He was broken from his thoughts, by Ron lightly elbowing him in the ribs, signalling Malfoy's arrival. He'd brought Goyle, as mentioned, but Crabbe too "As a spectator." Harry had no doubts that the two larger boys would jump in as soon as Malfoy started losing, but he wasn't worried. They were big, and strong, but practically squibs. He could handle them.

Duelling procedure demanded the two wizards bow deeply to one another, which was roughly satisfied by the two boys exchanging curt nods. The duel began.

"Expelliarmus!"

Malfoy looked surprised by Harry's quick casting, but stepped aside, retaliating with a knockback jinx that Harry spun away from.

"Verdimillious!" Malfoy's shower of green sparks was fairly feeble, a spell that he'd only just learned in defence the other day.

"PERICULUM!" Harry's red firework was far more powerful, more powerful even than Neville's usage of the same spell, being acknowledged in his friend group as 'Harry's spell' just as the smokescreen was Ron's.

Malfoy ducked and covered his face with his robes, trying to avoid the worst of the spell, but the garment was burnt through in multiple places, and began to catch fire. Malfoy, now thankful that they were beside a large body of water, shrugged the item off and hurled it into the lake. He turned back to Harry just in time to have be hit by the disarming charm, his wand being skilfully caught by Harry. Draco had lost.

"You lose Malfoy," Harry said triumphantly, throwing Malfoy's wand behind him, into a patch of thick grass for the Slytherin to find later. "Is this the part where your two 'body guards' try and get vengeance for you?"

"No Potter. This is the part where he does," Malfoy replied with a malicious grin, and a pointed finger towards the nearest patch of trees from which Marcus Flint emerged.

The older boy had his wand raised, and as Ron clumsily fumbled for his own, he found himself bound in ropes from Flint's spell. Harry threw a disarming charm, that was lazily blocked by Marcus. He stared firing stinging hexes at Harry's feet, causing Harry to leap and dance around to avoid them.

Flint whooped in delight, yelling out "Dance half blood, dance!"

Every so often Harry managed to fire off a return hex, but even his post powerful spark shower was easily dispelled by the more experienced 5th year. Marcus wasn't particularly talented by any means, he did exceedingly poorly at most subjects, but a 5th year versus a 1st year was just never going to be even. He disarmed Harry, and aimed his wand at him, for one last curse. Harry was going to lose. And he would have done, if not for Ron.

Ron had managed to wriggle his wand up into his hand, and point it at Marcus. "Hey, death eater!" his yell garnered Flint's attention, who turned to him with a sort of amused pity. "FUMOS MAXIMA!" Flint's expression changed rather quickly as the cloud of smoke emblazoned from Ron's wand, quickly enveloping and curling around him. His lungs filled up so quickly that he was unable to form a spell to get rid of it, ineffectually swiping his hand through the thick cloud. He eventually managed a weak gust of wind, blowing the smoke away from him. He glared around him, eyes red and agitated from the spell, and looking reading to actually murder someone. His glare found Harry, or rather, it found the tip of Harry's second wand, pointed directly at him. His shock caused him to first check on the position of Harry's first wand, way off to the side, causing his confusion at Harry now having a wand. His attempts at logical thinking distracted him long enough that he didn't get his own wand up in time.

"Flippendo."

The first year knock back charm was fuelled by so much anger, frustration, and downright disgust at the actions of the Slytherins, that it catapulted Marcus back far, slamming him back first into the black lake, where his hefty build saw him sinking rapidly. Harry freed Ron with a quick severing charm, before turning to the fuming Malfoy and terrified Crabbe and Goyle.

"Maybe you'll get lucky Malfoy - he might find your robe in there."

And with that he swept around, striding back towards the castle.

 **Well, this one was short, rushed, and I'm not entirely happy with it. On the brightside though, it got to show Harry beginning to make a name for himself, taking down a far more experienced dueller, with Ron by his side. Reviews are sponsorship for the independent fanfiction startup business? No, these metaphors are just getting worse and worse. I'm really sorry.**


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